


Come at Once, if Convenient

by therunawaypen



Series: Sherlock Tumblr Prompt Fills [47]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, M/M, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1218223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock really was in trouble when he text Greg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come at Once, if Convenient

**Author's Note:**

> TSOT-Prompt: In which Sherlock actually was in serious need of help when he texted Lestrade. —anon

Greg had been expecting the worst when he received Sherlock’s text. Sherlock never asked for help, always opting to rush headfirst into danger. To have Sherlock actually ask for help… Greg’s heart was in his throat as he took the stairs to 221b two at a time.

“Don’t be dead, Sherlock…” he muttered under his breath. “Not again…”

The door to 221b was open, which only served to send Greg’s heart into hyperdrive as he sprinted into the flat, “Sherlock!”

There was no response. Greg opened his mouth to call for Sherlock again, but the word caught in his throat when he saw Sherlock.

Sherlock, lying on the cold floor of 221b.

Sherlock, lying several feet away from a shattered mobile phone.

Sherlock, lying with blood blossoming from his otherwise pristine white shirt.

Sherlock, lying. Sherlock, _dying_.

_Sherlock dying._

Even as the sirens of backup sounded in Greg’s ear, all he could focus on was the genius in front of him, desperately clinging to life.

“Please, Sherlock…” Greg whispered, putting pressure on the wound in what he hoped could be an attempt to stop the bleeding, “don’t you dare leave me…”

It was only when the paramedics pulled Greg off of Sherlock, when they took Sherlock away in the ambulance, leaving Greg standing in 221b with Sherlock’s blood on his hands, that he saw it.

Three letters, written in Sherlock’s blood, next to where he had been…been…

_MAR_

It was like the Study in Pink, Greg thought morbidly, Sherlock leaving a note…

But then he stopped himself. Sherlock would be chastising him for getting so sentimental in the middle of a case.

Because that was what this was now. A case, though Greg prayed to whatever deity would listen that it would not be a homicide.

And so, Greg picked up a pen and pad of paper, and started taking notes.

_Sherlock had texted him for help, but the mobile was now broken and Sherlock had written the note in blood. If able, Sherlock would have text the note to him._

_Conclusion: Sherlock text him, the mobile was then broken, Sherlock was then shot, and Sherlock then wrote the note._

_Note: MAR_ …

Greg paused. What would Sherlock find so important that he would write it in his own blood? It was a little obvious: the identity of his attacker.

The similarities with Jennifer Wilson were only growing now. Sherlock had been writing a name. Which meant that the note was incomplete.

Before Greg could stop himself, he was at Sherlock’s computer, closing the window Sherlock had been using to write his best man speech and opening a website for baby names. In the search options, he narrowed it to names that began with MAR.

The list was still much longer than Greg would have liked. He groaned, burying his head in his hands. He had to think like Sherlock…but no one could think like Sherlock.

Greg took a deep breath, trying to think logically. Sherlock had texted him, so he must have assumed Greg was on his way. Because they both knew that he always came when Sherlock called, even if Greg wanted to deny it. So Sherlock knew Greg would be one of the first on the scene, thus the first to see the note.

So the name had to be one Greg would recognize.

He sighed, going over the list again, writing down any names that belonged to people he knew. It did make the list much shorter, but Greg needed to narrow it down more.

It was obvious, really. The name had to be someone they _both_ knew.

By then, Greg was crossing out names left and right. There were a handful of names left, but only one really jumped out at Greg.

One that he would need to investigate before he could be sure.

* * *

 

The hospital room was too quiet for Greg’s liking. And Sherlock was far too still. But he was alive, and for that, Greg was grateful.

The DI gently slipped his hand into Sherlock’s, holding it gently. With the free hand, he smoothed back Sherlock’s tangled hair.

Greg leaned in, his mouth next to Sherlock’s ear.

_“Mary.”_

There was a slight squeeze as Sherlock tightened his grip on Greg’s hand.


End file.
